Harry Potter and the Serpent Staff
by WordWeavers
Summary: Salazar Slytherin created an artifact for his heir to use against the Champion of Gryffindor, Harry. Will Harry reach it before him? Or will Voldemort claim the prize what is rightfully his? R&R please.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Harry Potter breathed ragged breaths as he struggled against the binds that had him wrapped around a grave. He glared at Peter Pettigrew as the man, with tears streaming down his face, moved toward him with the dagger in his left hand. The right one—still newly amputated—was already wrapped and hidden in the depths of the man's robes.

Sobs wracked the other man as he stumbled his way over to the gagged and restrained Harry. _No, no, no please…! He should be dead! Dead, _Harry thought as his eyes fell on the bubbling cauldron he knew contained the bone thin body of Lord Voldemort. Harry's eyes fell back onto Wormtail as his hot, labored breathing fell on his neck and the servant drew forth the silver dagger, now filmed with blood.

Harry did his best to pull away from Peter, but his efforts amounted to nothing. Peter cut his right arm and robe sleeve, where blood began trickling down and soaking the fabric. After a few seconds of fumbling Wormtail pulled a vial from his robes and held it to the cut to allow a few drops to dribble in then he began crawling his way over to the cauldron.

_No, Wormtail! Don't put it in! Don't put my blood in! Don't let him rise,_ Harry mentally shouted at him as he tried to moan the words through the large, cloth gag. Too late. As the blood was put into it the surface began sparking and releasing a blinding white light. Narrowing his eyes painfully to see through the bright light he heard a hissing off to his right.

As Harry turned to see what it was he saw the enormous snake slithering into view. Its diamond shaped head angled his way for one brief glance before its entire twelve feet passed him without ado, heading toward the bubbling cauldron where its newly arisen Master would be waiting. And as it disappeared into the mist, it changed. The body shortened to nearly half its regular size and the glossy brown scales with black diamond studded patterns on it melted into gleaming, chrome silver. The unnoticeable black eyes suddenly turned jewel bright green as the steam issuing from Voldemort's current resting place, yet the gleaming green could be seen until the snake passed behind the cauldron.

And once more Voldemort's skeletally thin form materialized from the unearthly fog and he turned his snake-like face in Harry's direction. As soon as their eyes connected Harry felt a searing pain spike from his scar, and he closed his eyes once more to scream.

"No," the tousle, black haired boy shot up from his bed in the early hours of the morning. His green eyes were widened in anguish as he remembered that night only—had it already been a month? Wiping the sweat dampened hair from his eyes he got out of his bed and stumbled to his opened window where he poked his head out into the night.

Harry Potter's emerald green eyes scanned the sleep, deserted streets of Little Whinging from his bedroom window, half expecting the newly risen Lord Voldemort to be skulking in the shadows of his neighbor's house. But he saw nothing, and all he heard were the annoying barks of a lone dog as the wind blew through the yards. Tell-tale signs of the sunrise probed the eastern horizon as red streaks of light began creeping their way up the sky followed by a dull orange; the Boy Who Lived decided then that there was no use getting an extra few minutes of sleep before his Aunt would be banging on the door screeching for him to get up and make breakfast. Sighing resignedly, Harry pulled back from the window and walked over to his wardrobe where he pulled out another baggy shirt and an equally baggy pair of pants he barely managed to keep on his waist.

One month. It had been one month since the events of the Third Task in the Triwizard Tournament. One month since he, Harry, had seen Cedric Diggory die in front of his eyes then carried his body back to Hogwarts through the portal. And one month since Voldemort had gained a new body.

Through the fifteen years of his life Harry hadn't been able to imagine the consequences of the return of the Dark Lord. The snatches he'd gotten about the war before this age of calm had caused him to shudder due to the fear and losses received there. And he had been hoping that if Voldemort were to come back then the Ministry of Magic would take an offensive approach and do their best to prevent another costly war. But the Minister, Fudge, had refused to see the damage and destruction Voldemort would no doubt cause in his second rampage and had left Hogwarts that year without allying himself to Dumbledore.

This dream had come to him almost every night since then and every night Harry relived the pain of seeing Cedric, the _real_ Hogwarts Champion in his mind, die from one sweep of Wormtail's wand—from the Unforgivable Killing Curse—and watch Wormtail proceed through the ceremony to resurrect Voldemort back to power. But something had been different about this dream. Harry squinted at his gangly reflection as he tried to recall the dream by each picture but any specific change to it was slipping away.

With slight frustration Harry continued sifting through each thought until he came upon the image of the morphing snake. The gigantic snake Voldemort kept around him had diminished to a less threatening five foot snake with silver scales. What was this snake? This thing had appeared flawlessly smooth as though it had just slithered off a sculptures table gleaming and perfect and new.

Staring at his reflection thoughtfully, Harry wondered if he should tell anybody about this. It was only a slight change in a dream and the chances of it proving significant sooner or later didn't seem very high, but there was the pressing question of whether to refrain from talking about it would be folly? Harry heaved a deep sigh as he brought a hand to briefly brush away the hair blocking the thin, lightning bolt shaped scar into view. It had throbbed after the dream, moreso than usual after the same dream, yet it appeared nothing more than a harmless souvenir of a long ago accident.

Though it had been long ago, the means for coming about that scar had been anything _but_ accident. Voldemort had come into the night on Halloween when he was little more than a year old and still living with his parents at their house in Godric's Hollow. His father, James Potter, had told his mother to take their son and run then he attempt to waylay Voldemort to make sure his wife and son had more time. In the exact same way Cedric died, the Dark Lord had disposed of his father and then had went on to his mother, Lily Potter.

Lily had begged with Voldemort countless times in Harry's dreams to kill her, but leave her son. The Dark Lord, who had been looking to kill Harry, pushed her aside in the easiest sense possible to him: he killed her too. Then Voldemort had turned his wand on Harry and after uttering those evil words _Avada Kedavra_ for the hundredth time in his life he put the spell on Harry. But something unpredictable had happened. From that moment on the entire Wizarding world would be wondering what could possibly have happened that night that had spared Harry Potter from the Killing Curse. As soon as the green beam had hit Harry it rebounded on its originator, but not before it had chiseled the lightning scar into Harry's head. The scar countless eyes would rove over after they'd heard the name 'Harry Potter'.

And it was because of Voldemort that Harry had been placed with his boorish Aunt and Uncle and cousin, whom had a strictly negative impression of magic. For ten years Harry had lived in complete ignorance of the fact he was a wizard and had been puzzled when the Dursely's blamed him for the odd incidents, which always seemed to happen around him. It was on the exact day Harry turned eleven and his life had changed drastically.

He had just gotten out of his fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And in that year he'd come face to face with the _new_ Voldemort. The _real_ Voldemort. The only time he'd managed that was in his first year when Voldemort was a mere shadow occupying the back of his first year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's head. The other two years he'd met with a past Voldemort and his servant. Each time he'd barely managed to escape with his life.

_Bang, bang, bang! _Harry started out of his thoughts when someone started pounding on the door causing it to shake in its hinges. "Get up! Get up, now," his aunt's shrill voice sounded at him from behind the door. Then she was gone.

Combing his ever unruly hair to make it less like he'd just gotten out of bed, Harry made for the door. He cast a glance toward the cage where his snowy owl, Hedwig, was perched. A smile crossed Harry's face at the reproachful look she gave him. "Don't worry, I'll bring you some bacon and then let you loose for awhile."

By the time Harry had reached the breakfast table, the Dursleys were already eating. Aunt Petunia was having an animated conversation with Dudley about his plans for the day, while Uncle Vernon was leaning back in his chair reading the morning newspaper. Harry discreetly took his seat next to Dudley and reached out to take some bacon and pancakes for himself. As he loaded his plate with food, he turned his attention to Petunia and Dudley.

"Honey, you've been spending all your time with your friends these days. Neglecting your chores, as well. I'm sure you don't mean to spend the day riding that... thing you have parked outside?" Petunia said as her thin, bony face chewed on a forkful of eggs. Though Petunia wasn't very old she hadn't been aging well; her blonde hair had wisps of gray straining near her temples and the skin on her face and neck was heavily lined. 

Harry smirked. The "thing" Aunt Petunia was referring to was his cousin's motorcycle -- Dudley's pride and joy. Harry was not quite certain how Dudley had managed to get his hands on it, although he suspected that it was through... less than legitimate means. In the time since he had returned from Hogwarts, he noticed that Dudley had changed -- become more daring, and more eager to flout rules.

"But Mum!" started Dudley as he wolfed down a piece of bacon. "I promised Piers that I would meet him and the guys outside of town." Dudley still took up the entire side of a table, but while he was at Smeltings he'd supposedly lost twenty pounds, though Harry really didn't notice the difference. Though Dudley was oblivious, Harry had caught a glimpse of a small, hissing snake tattoo on Dudley's back; a recent addition Harry was also sure Petunia didn't know about.

"No, no," said Aunt Petunia, shaking her head. "The lawn needs mowing. And the last thing we need is for Arabella to call again with complaints about the way you ride that thing."

Harry sipped at his milk to hide a smile. Aunt Petunia treated Dudley's motorcycle as almost as much of a disruption as she used to treat Harry. In the weeks since Harry returned from Hogwarts, she had received calls from no less than seven of her neighbors –at least three from Harry's old babysitter Mrs. Figg, who complained that Dudley's careless antics had almost flattened one of her cats.

"I promise I won't go near Mrs. Figg or her stupid cats," exclaimed Dudley. "And I don't see why Harry can't mow the lawn!"

Harry snorted, giving a clear indication of what he thought about that idea. "I mowed the lawn last week, Dudley."

"Well, you can mow it again! It's not like you have anything important to do. I have friends waiting for me."

"Enough," Vernon, a big beefy man with absolutely no neck and a suffering mustache, cut in curtly as he put down his newspaper. "You tell your friend Piers that you are going to have to wait until after you've mowed the lawn to catch up with him. As for you, boy," he said, glaring at Harry, "I have a different sort of job for you."

And so it was that Harry, after going back upstairs to feed Hedwig and let her fly out of her cage, found himself on a ladder layering paint onto the wall far into the afternoon. By the time Harry had finished, the hum of his cousin pushing the lawnmower had faded and Dudley had disappeared along with his motorcycle.

Depositing his paintbrush and can of paint on the steps, Harry walked wearily into the Dursleys' house rubbing his sun burnt neck. It hadn't been particularly hot that day, but the sun had been unrelenting. Vernon, who had not needed to go to work that day, was watching the news on television. Walking quietly into the room behind him, Harry lounged against the wall and watched as well.

"...in other news today, there has been a sighting of the fugitive Sirius Black reported in a small village east of London. A young couple claims to have seen the deranged man outside their house, holding a gun in one hand and a bloody knife in the other. Police have investigated the sighting, but no traces of Black have been unearthed."

A grin crossed Harry's face. A gun and a knife...? It sounded more like an attempt to get some attention. Vernon turned to see him watching the news and then he said, "Boy, did you do your job well? If you didn't you'll be getting something coming to you. There's a letter on the counter for you." Harry felt his face lit up and he let a smile grace it as he dashed into the kitchen to pick up the letter. Glancing at it once told him it was in Hermione's usually loopy writing.

"...Harry? Harry," shrieked Petunia, with a nasty look on her as she came striding into the room. Her eyes were fiery, and she stuck her finger out at him threateningly. "There are two ugly birds beating at your window. One looks like yours!"

"Thanks, Aunt Petunia," Harry said and dashed upstairs to his room. A moment later he barreled into his room to see Hedwig on her perch following Pigwidgeon twittering madly and still flying fast circles around the room. Harry noted it had dropped an envelope onto his bed and he walked over to it with a shake of his head. _Hermione, Ron, your letters are always on time,_ Harry though, considering the coincidence of both arriving on the same day through two different ways. He honestly wondered if magic were involved.

Taking Hermione's letter first he opened and unraveled it:

_Hello Harry!_

_How's your vacation so far? I do hope your aunt and uncle and cousin are treating you fairly. Despite what you might think I actually haven't traveled with my parents so far this summer. _

_I've checked out quite a few books from my local library and even stopped by Diagon Alley when I got home to by some more summer reading. That includes Magical Maladies and How To Recognize Them and Greedy Goblins and other Intelligent Creatures. So far I've read about four of my books from the library, so I'll have to return this weekend to pick up some more. _

_Have you gotten a letter detailing you're a prefect? I expect not since we're only a month into the summer. Oh, I can't wait to see if I am!_

Harry laughed at this, suspecting that the world would end if Hermione didn't become a prefect.

_I don't suppose you've even started on your homework this summer, have you? The three foot essay Professor McGonagall wants on The Dangers of Switching the Species of an Animal ended up being six feet long. Binns essay on Borog the Warlord Goblin is also finished. All my homework is done! _

_Now, Harry, I said I'd touch on why I haven't traveled and here's why: my parents have agreed that I can take a few friends with me when we travel through Germany and Bulgaria this year, so I was wondering if you'd like to go with Ron, Ginny, and I? I asked Ron and Ginny last when he sent Pigwidgeon over. Oh, Harry, I do hope you can come! _

_And if you do come tell your relatives that you won't be coming back for the rest of the summer, and that you'll be arriving in London the last week before school where we'll stay at Diagon Alley. It'll be great to see you again, Harry!_

_Love,_

_Hermione _

Harry couldn't suppress his surprised expression when he read the last paragraph then let out a delighted chuckle. Travel Europe with the Grangers and Ron and Ginny? There couldn't be a possibly better vacation—except if they stopped by the Weasely's on their way over to the other countries.

Containing his excitement for now Harry picked up Ron's letter and tore it open to read it in his best friend's fairly messy scrawl:

_Hi, Harry_,

_Been having a great summer? Mine's been bloody awesome! Charlie and Bill are visiting, again, and so we've been having daily Quidditch matches with each other. I'm hoping to make it on the team next year since Oliver Wood's no longer around. Bill and Charlie have been teaching me a lot and I hope it's enough._

_Have you heard from Sirius lately? I don't suppose you have since he still needs to keep a low profile around here, does he, since Dumbledore will grant him amnesty or something? I hope he's alright. _

_Have you heard from Hermione? Me and Ginny are supposed to be going with her to Germany, Switzerland, and Bulgaria, I think. She's already asked you right? It'll be great to have you there, Harry! And do you think we're stopping in Bulgaria to visit Krum? Uggh! Do you think she actually _loves_ him? I can't imagine so. _

_Well, I hope you can come with us! Don't let your relatives get you down,_

_-Ron_

Harry had been wondering about the same thing of the Dursley's and whether they'd be thrilled for him to be gone to different countries on an all expenses paid trip. He glanced out the window to see the sky already coloring orange for sunset and decided that this very night was not the right time to bring it up. He'd ask them tomorrow morning. Walking across the room he found Pigwidgeon had eventually settled down himself, but was still twittering incessantly. And from the look on Hedwig's face, it was obvious the chattering was stretching her patience. Running to her rescue, Harry dug out some owl treats and gave them to the two owls. He would write return letters to his friends tomorrow when he knew the answer to the biggest question of the summer.

Despite the dangers of wishful thinking, Harry flopped down onto his bed with a wide grin as he imagined seeing Ron, Hermione, and Ginny before the school year as well as visiting another country or three. That night, for the first time, the nightmare at the end of the Third Task did not plague his sleeping mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Harry woke up the following morning with a pit in his gut and was sure to get up and be out of his bedroom before his aunt could bang on the door. Despite his stoic face his insides were writhing and twisting nauseatingly. The prospect of not being able to go was already ringing in his head, but if he could go to the World Cup Tournament last year with the less than civilized Weaselys—in the Dursleys' view—then surely the "normal" Grangers would be okay.

Then there was the prospect that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would be without the pesky presence of their delinquent nephew for five weeks. Five weeks closer than they'd previously hoped. That had to be the best incentive anyone could have. Combing his hair more than usual in hopes that it might stay down and pocketing Hermione's letter Harry went downstairs.

Uncle Vernon was already immersed in the newspaper with a glass of orange juice off to the side. He didn't even twitch as Harry entered the kitchen as though there was an aurora around Harry, which would distinguish him from the rest of the family. Harry opened the refrigerator and took out the white milk to pour himself a cup then filled his plate up with an English muffin, ham and eggs.

"Good morning, Uncle Vernon," Harry said before he began stuffing eggs into his mouth. His Uncle only grunted.

_Thump, thump, thump, thump!_

The heavy footsteps of his cousin coming down the stairs seemed to shake the house as he finally alighted at the bottom then stepped into the kitchen a moment later, bleary-eyed and red faced. Dudley looked like he'd been drinking. Harry hid a smirk while drinking his milk as Dudley massaged his head and reached for aspirin in the cabinet. Yes, drinking no doubt.

Dudly seated himself at the table with twice the food that Harry had and immediately began digging in, his three chins wobbling as he chewed. Aunt Petunia swept into the kitchen next, shooting Harry a pointed look when she obviously hadn't needed to bang on his door. "G'morning, my little dudders. You look so tired, dear. Why don't you take a nap after breakfast?" Aunt Petunia simpered to her massive son, apparently ignoring or not seeing the obvious signs of a hangover. Dudley nodded auspiciously and continued to shove food into his mouth. Harry now speculated if he'd gotten drunk several times at Smeltings and vomited all the food up, which had caused him to lose those twenty pounds.

_Focus, Harry. Don't worry about your stupid cousin drinking! Worry about whether talking to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon after breakfast is a good idea_, Harry's mind shouted at him and he immediately cleared any suspicions he had about Dudley with a mental shake. Aunt Petunia had already swept over into the kitchen to cut up pieces of fruit for herself and Dudley, whom, she was still convinced, needed to lose more weight.

Breakfast passed in mediocre silence. When Vernon started getting up, Harry looked up and said, "Uncle Vernon, may I speak to you in the living room? There's something I have to ask you. And you Aunt Petunia? I need to speak to you, too."

Uncle Vernon narrowed his beady eyes at him as Harry stared back with a fearless, yet respectful face. He nodded then said gruffly, "Alright, but make it quick, boy. I need to get to work!"

Harry nodded and then got up to wash his plate off and stick it in the dishwasher as Vernon went through the door to wait in the living room. Harry followed him not a few minutes later, but Aunt Petunia was taking her time with her breakfast, and didn't arrive until five minutes later. When the two sat down Harry stood up from his chair and pulled the sleeves back on his oversized shirt to gesture during his speech.

"Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, I have something very important to ask you. Yesterday I received a letter in the post from one of my friends Hermione Granger." Here Harry dug out the letter and unfolded before continuing, "She asked me if I could spend the rest of the summer with her and her family in Germany and Bulgaria. I would be going to the Leaky Cauldron to spend the rest of my vacation there, and then be gone for the school year." Harry finished with a steady voice, but his heart was pounding.

For a long time Mr. Dursley just glowered at Harry from where he was sitting on the sofa, the cogs in his head grinding away and against each other as he tried to figure things out. Make Harry happy or make Harry miserable. It was basically the same exact fight as last year when Harry had gone with the Weasely's to the Quidditch World Cup. But it was with someone else this time.

"Who are these people?" Uncle Vernon snapped at Harry as his eyes stared hard at his nephew from beneath his bushy eyebrows. Aunt Petunia sat quietly watching as her husband bared his teeth at the boy and thought on this proposition.

"Hermione is a friend from my Ho—school," Harry said, correcting himself barely in time. It panged his heart not being able to say Hogwarts in front of his Aunt and Uncle, but if it allowed him another trip of a lifetime with Hermione then he would do it. "She was raised 'normally,' Harry continued, "And she knows about all the normal things and will probably pick me up by car." He added the last bit about transportation as an afterthought when he thought back to the ruined living room last year when the Weasely's tried to use floo powder. Allowing his eyes to roam it, Harry noted that his Aunt had taken the opportunity to get the room redone.

Though Uncle Vernon's expression hadn't changed a gleam seemed to kindle in his eyes at the thought of rather normal people having a daughter and actually picking their nephew up in the most normal way possible.

Another argument for Harry seemed to resurface as Vernon also seemed to think back on that incident: the matter of his godfather. "Will…can you contact your godfather and tell him if you don't go or not?" Vernon asked quite innocently, his face unchanged. But Harry caught the slight note of fear under his otherwise calm voice.

Harry nodded and said, "Yes, Hedwig can find anyone."

"Alright, alright you can go," his Uncle shouted, obviously disinclined to tangle with a full grown wizard who, as far as he knew, was accused of mass murder. Getting up from the couch he stalked out of the room.

Harry did his best to suppress a wide grin and an excited jump when Aunt Petunia got up and said, "Will those…will those two delinquents be coming with them?" She asked with a voice gone shrill as she also thought on that last visit. Her face had paled. A frightened squeak sounded from the hall and suddenly heavy footsteps stumbled away; Dudley had been eavesdropping on the entire conversation, probably hoping Harry would get the punishment of a life time.

Despite the immense amusement Dudley's plight had caused, Harry shook his head and said, "Oh no, those two won't be coming here. They haven't been invited to stay with the Grangers."

"Fine," Petunia snapped in a haughty manner and swept out of the room, but not before saying, "And you better tell them they'll be on time, mark me! We've got plenty of other things to do!"

"I bet you do," Harry muttered to himself, but shouted back, "Alright, Aunt Petunia, I'll tell them!" Grinning madly he took the stairs three at a time and charged into his room, grabbing a piece of parchment to write hastily to Hermione:

_Hi, Hermione_

_Good luck, I can go! I talked with my Aunt and Uncle and they said I could go, but they also said to me that you have to be on time. And they expect me to be picked up by car, which I do hope you will be doing. So when are you going to come?_

_Best wishes,_

_Harry_

Harry walked over to Hedwig, who, against her wish, was sharing her perch with Pigwidgeon. The little owl was still asleep still earning more disapproving glares from the much bigger owl. When Harry waved the envelope in front of her she clicked her tongue then obediently held out her leg, waiting so obediently it seemed she was trying to make an impression on the other owl. Pigwidgeon nearly hooted and flapped his wings as he stared wide-eyed at Harry. Having tied it to her leg he stroked her breast silently for a moment then stepped to the window and held her out where she took off with a few flaps of her wings to silently fly away.

Next, Harry grabbed another piece of parchment.

_Hey, Ron!_

The Dursleys' are letting me go with you and Ginny and Hermione. I think bringing my godfather into the conversation convinced them to let me go.

See you soon,  
Harry

Harry approached Pigwidgeon who, unlike Hedwig, was practically dancing with eagerness. With some effort, the young wizard fastened the envelope to the owl's leg. "Take this to Ron," he said.

The ball of energy practically bounced out of Harry's hand as he let the owl out of his window, flying off to deliver his message to Ron. A satisfied smile rose on Harry's face, and when Pigwidgeon had faded out of sight he turned to leave his room and go downstairs. But before he could exit, Harry thought better of leaving his sanctuary too quickly. After about ten minutes, Harry had packed his bags -- his textbooks, clothing, his quill and parchment. He left his wand out, in case of emergencies, and several books to read for his entertainment. Finally, when he was satisfied, Harry curled up in bed with one of the books he had left out. There was no way he was going to risk disturbing the Dursleys by going downstairs–no sense at all in spoiling a good thing. Several days came and went. Harry received responses to his letters—Ron congratulated him on being able to accompany them, and Hermione notified Harry that they would arrive to pick Harry up on his birthday. Harry counted down the days to his birthday more enthusiastically than he usually did, anticipating the time he would be able to spend with his two best friends.

Moreso than he had before, Harry did his best to avoid getting on the Dursleys' nerves. He kept mostly to his room, reading and doing homework. When Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia assigned him chores, Harry worked without complaint. Harry admitted to himself that it was somewhat degrading, but he found that a life in which he and the Dursleys pointedly ignored each other was almost bearable—especially hen the specter of his birthday and salvation from the clutches of his relatives loomed before Harry.

Harry woke on the morning of his birthday not to Aunt Petunia's insistent pounding, but to the sound of thumping at the window. A bushy brown owl bearing a large package was beating upon it, seeking entry. Harry was confused—Ron and Hermione had mentioned in their letters that they would be delivering their gifts in person.

After Harry put on his glasses, he grinned. Hagrid, he realized. Ron and Hermione would deliver their gifts in person, but Hagrid would not be going on the trip with them. Harry remembered as he removed the package and the attached letter from the owl that he had not mentioned his trip to Hagrid—there would be no way for him to know that Harry would be spending vacation traveling rather than in Privet Drive with the Dursleys.

Hastily paying the waiting delivery owl, Harry ripped opened the envelope and read the letter inside.

_Happee Birthday, Harry!_

Sorry I couldn't send you a cake—with the time I've spent preparing your present, I didn't have time to bake one. I do hope you enjoy what I gave you though. Take good care of it, Harry!

Hagrid  
  
A resigned smile crossed Harry's face as he turned his attention the package. He couldn't see anything moving within it...but it would be best to remain safe, Harry thought, grabbing his wand from where it lay on his bed stand next to where his glasses had been. Raising his wand in front of his face, Harry held a spell on his lips as he reached down and ripped the wrapping off the package.

As part of the wrapping fell away, Harry took a quick step back, prepared to use his magic on whatever lay within the package. When nothing within the wrappings stirred, Harry took a cautious step forward. It was a book, he saw, with a leather cover.

Still cautious, Harry used his wand to remove the rest of the wrapping. Then, he flipped open the cover with his wand tip and saw writing inside. Squinting, Harry bent down to read it.

_Happee Birthday again. I put this book together from pictures of animals I've met throughout my life—page 8 is dedicated to Norbert._ Here, the ink Hagrid had wrote with was splotched, as if by a tear._ I know it probably isn't my best gift, but I hope you enjoy it anyway._

- Hagrid

Harry's smile widened to a grin as he sat down and opened the book, sifting through its pages. Animals of all sorts, magical and Muggle, moved in the pictures Hagrid had given him. Pixies...centaurs... Norbert... and some other dragon which Harry did not recognize and caused him a faint pang of worry. He even recognized a picture of a younger, yet still disturbing Aragog, although that particular picture was not colored.

Harry finished skimming the book of pictures, closing it after staring in fascination at a picture of a lynx staring back at him unflinchingly.

Suddenly he heard the Dursleys waking up around him...it would only be a matter of time before Aunt Petunia came up to wake him. Hurriedly, he got up from his bed and stashed the book with the rest of his others, where they would be ready for transportation. Pocketing his wand, he then moved toward the door to go downstairs.

Breakfast passed in a flash, and Harry took his first opportunity to get away from the Dursleys and wait on the road in front of the house. He knew logically that it would be hours before the Grangers arrived, yet he could not tear himself away from his spot. Several times he felt his heart quicken as a car moved down the road, but he was always disappointed as it either passed the Dursleys' house or pulled off the road before reaching it.

Finally, when Harry had almost stopped expecting them, the Grangers arrived. The luminous, silver mini-van pulled to an unexpected stop in front of the curb, and while Harry was still trying to collect his wits Hermione jumped out of the car and dashed and flung herself at Harry, hugging him with enough force that his breathing became impeded.

"Oh, _Harry_, it's so good to see you! How have you been?" She asked in a shrill voice as he finally hugged her back. Hermione hardly looked any different, if only a little more glowing. She'd pulled her hair back up into a bun—a first as far as Harry could remember—and beamed at him. By the time they'd separated Ginny, Ron, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger were already out of the car.

"I'm pretty good, Hermione. How 'bout you?" Harry replied and shook firm hands with Ron before he and Ginny hugged. Ginny seemed close to catching her own brother in height as they both towered over him grinning broadly with red and considerably freckled faces. Mr. Granger was tall, skinny, and balding with near black hair adorning the sides of his head, while Mrs. Granger appeared much like her daughter—somewhat tall, with bushy, brown hair down a little past her shoulders. And he noticed that both had dazzling smiles.

Hermione then turned to her parents and said eagerly, "Mum, dad, this is Harry Potter, one of my best friends from school! Harry, this is my dad Adam and my mother Laura."

Harry nodded and said, "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Adam said as he scrutinized Harry, and then continued, "We've heard so much about you. Our daughter will hardly keep quiet."

"Daaaad," Hermione admonished with a patronizing tone then swatted him lightly.

Harry laughed and replied, "Yeah, you don't have to tell me. Come along and let me introduce you to my aunt and uncle and cousin." He then turned to step into the house followed by all five.

As he stepped in he noticed that the Dursleys were practically barring the door to investigate when they heard the happy commotion outside. They stepped back when they saw Harry coming in. Hermione was first and Harry gestured at his relatives, "Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, this is one of my best friends, Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Vernon Dursley, Petunia Dursley, and Dudley Dursley." Though Harry knew he needn't tack the last names on, he figured he would to show respect to his only family left and hopefully entice them to keep on their good side.

Dudley seemed to gape more than was healthy for him as Hermione reached out to shake all their hands. Obviously he was rather impressed with Hermione's attributes. Though Vernon and Petunia seemed wary to shake hands, Petunia backhanded her son when she caught him staring and muttered tersely, "Don't be rude." At this Harry wondered if Petunia hit him so that he wouldn't get any ideas approaching a witch or if she really was looking out for his manners.

Ron was introduced next, though from the way Uncle Vernon narrowed his eyes, how his aunt shrunk, and the way Dudley squeaked and sidled behind the pair of them to hide his mass, Harry _knew_ they hadn't forgotten who he was. Ron blushed furiously and grinned sheepishly before side-stepping away to stand next to Hermione, acting as though he were ashamed of the incident the year before.

"This is Ginny," Harry said when Ginny stepped forward and nodded courteously at the Dursleys, obviously taking note that they refused to shake hands with anything associated to magic. She also didn't get very approving looks, but this didn't seem to cow her and she stepped aside after a few seconds in the spotlight to join her brother.

And finally he introduced Hermione's parents and hoped that the Durleys would set aside their haughty attitude long enough to at least shake the Granger's hands, since they weren't guilty of using magic themselves. "And this is Hermione's parents, Adam and Laura Granger."

Both Grangers smiled as brightly as they had on the sidewalk, their teeth almost blinding everyone within the vicinity, but Harry nearly sighed with relief when every member of his own family shook hands. After introductions Ron asked, "Hey, Harry, is your trunk upstairs?"

"Yeah, why don't we go and get it?" Harry offered then started upstairs to his room with Ron following behind, though he didn't need instructions as to where it was. When he glanced back once Harry grimaced and wondered if it was right to leave the Grangers with the stiff Dursley's. Even Hermione was faltering in her smile as he saw a light blush creep up her neck.

Suddenly Harry realized he needed another person and he called down the stairs, "Hey, Hermione, would you come up and grab Hedwig's things?"

"Sure, Harry," Hermione said easily enough and ran up the stairs, though she still seemed unnerved by her first encounter with the Dursleys.

Harry stepped into the room and, upon noticing Hedwig, hit his head with the palm of his hand. "Oh, I forgot! I obviously can't take Hedwig with me on a plane or to any of those countries. Hey, Ron, would it be okay if I sent her to stay at your house?"

"Yeah, no problem," Ron said as he went around the side of the truck read to pick it up. Harry went to it and kicked it open then pawed through his belongings for quill, ink, and some parchment. He wrote a hasty note to Mrs. Weasely, explaining everything and apologizing for the last minute item. Finally he tied it to Hedwig's talon and stroked her head quietly.

"Sorry, Hedwig, but I can't actually take you with me. I'm going to places you wouldn't like," he explained to her in a morose voice, but that didn't keep her from gazing pleadingly at him until he'd taken her to the window. She gave his arm an extra squeeze as she lifted off and none too gently. Sighing, he quickly put everything back into its place and locked the trunk shut before hoisting it up with Ron.

Hermione grabbed Hedwig's perch and cage and said, "Harry, when we leave from the airport we can just go ahead and leave this stuff in the car. Alright?"

"Sounds great, Hermione," Harry said distractedly though he still managed to grin enthusiastically at her. The grin vanished as a realization poked at him and he asked, "Did you leave Crookshanks? He can't be coming with us, can he?"

"Of course not," Hermione replied, appearing slightly affronted at the idea as though she couldn't believe he suggested something so illogical. "I left him with the Weaselys. He'll be dropped off at the Leaky Cauldron when the Weasely's come to see us off."

"Ah, I see," Harry said, and admitted to himself that the idea of a cat being touted with the luggage, even if it was in a cage, sounded like a ridiculous and rather torturous experience to put an animal through. Especially since this wouldn't be a short trip.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione appeared on the scene to an entente as the Dursleys hardly seemed to have made a move, and made only monosyllabic responses to Mr. and Mrs. Granger's half-hearted attempts at conversation. Harry sighed exasperatedly to himself and couldn't contain an eyeroll. Couldn't his relatives be friendly to non-magical beings for _five_ minutes?

Mr. Granger broke off his failed attempts when he saw Harry and Ron arrive with the heavy trunk and instead said, "Well, good bye Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. And you too, Dudley." He nodded at them then started out the door just ahead of Harry and Ron so that he might open the trunk of their van for him. Mrs. Granger and Ginny followed Hermione out the door, also after saying their good byes and began piling into the van.

Hermione's father looked around and then said to Harry, "When we stopped at the—What do you call it? The Burrow?—Mr. Weasely was kind enough to put some kind of charm on our trunk to expand it so that we might haul all of you and your luggage safely." Indeed, it was as Mr. Granger said. There had to be two feet added on just to fit several suitcases and three other trunks in there. Harry's slid in next to the others quite easily as it expanded once more.

Harry also found the same true for the seats as he and Ron piled it so that he found himself in the middle next to Hermione and Ginny was on the other side of Hermione. Hermione turned to him and then said, "Buckle up, Harry. My parents refuse to go if you don't have your seatbelt on. And there is in fact a fourth seat belt in there. Mr. Weasely added that also, but only if we need it."

He shook his head as he pulled another seatbelt out from under him and clicked it into place. Grinning at his two best friends, Harry sat back and waited to arrive at the airport.


End file.
